White Pencil Crayons
by KShade
Summary: "White pencil crayons, I thought, always left out, ignored. No one needs them, my mental voice sounded more pensive as I added, I know that feeling." It's Jack's third (ish) day at the House of Night and he reflects on what his life was like before he came here. Fluffy Jamien oneshot. T for homophobic language.


**I missed you guyyyyyyyys! I got diverted by Buffy the Vampire Slayer! Do any of you watch it?**

**Uh, moving in, this is set just slightly after Jack is marked. Warnings for homophobic language. *gahhhh! I wanted to hurt some of the characters for bullying Jack* This was also written in class. Yup, I'm that pro. And, did I mention I don't own House of Night or any of the characters?**

_Jack_

I sighed. I'd arrived late for art class again. Damien had been supposed to show me, but his friends had needed him. I get it, he has friends. They come before the random new kid. Walking over to the supply bucket, I whistled the start of a song. I looked into the bucket, and to my dismay, there was only an assortment of white pencil crayons left. How was I supposed to make anything nice with those?

_White pencil crayons,_ I thought_, always left out, ignored. No one needs them,_ my mental voice sounded more pensive as I added, _I know that feeling. _I remembered that time, the first time I met Zoey. I wondered idly if she remembered it.

*/*/

Once, when I was human, I'd been at the movies, hoping to finally be able to watch a decent rom-com uninterrupted, when I felt kicking at my chair. I turned around, seeing one of the guys from the school's football team. Jared was his name, or something like Jared. His skanky girlfriend was there too, and his best friend, and his best friend's girlfriend. I sighed, still trying to enjoy the movie. This time, I wasn't going to let them ruin it for me. Or, worst-case scenario, I wasn't going to let them know they were ruining it for me.

"Hey, Heath!" Jared whispered, "Heath, check out the fag in front of us!" his eyes lit up when he saw the hurt in mine. _Bingo_, I thought bitterly, _he'd seen that he could get a reaction_. I ignored their hateful words, hoping that if I didn't do anything, they would go away. Maybe Heath would dismiss him. I wanted nothing more right now than to have Heath tell Jared to shut up.

_Heath_ didn't speak, unfortunately. Jared's girlfriend, on the other hand, did. "Zoey! Seriously! It's the guy from art!" she added, pointing frantically and giggling. I wondered if she was high. She probably was. Then, I got a better look at her, and her art comment made sense.

That was Kayla Robinson. My art partner, who'd asked to switch partners immediately after being paired with me. She was worried _my kind_ had AIDS. It figured that she had to be dating Jared. It just figured that they were here. It seemed the universe couldn't let a guy enjoy a movie. I almost regretted coming out of the closet, but not quite. I was proud of who I was. It wouldn't be worth it, pretending to be someone I wasn't.

"Ohmigod! That's him?" Zoey asked, unaware that she would be my 'friend' eventually. I sighed. I didn't want to leave, but I wasn't sure if I could endure what was to come. I wondered if that was why it seemed like she was avoiding me. I mean, she'd been fairly welcoming, but so distracted. I bet it was because she was laughing at her memories of me. I hoped she hadn't told Damien. It wasn't like Damien would like me like I wanted him to, anyways.

"Hey! Fag! You need to move!" Jared whispered, directing the cruel words at me. By then, I was used to their hateful language. It used to hurt, and it still sometimes does, but by then, I didn't care what Jared thought. Nor did I care what Kayla and all of her friends thought.

I turned around, trying to look serene, "I got the seat fair and square. I don't want any trouble, I'm just asking that you leave me alone, so I can give you the same courtesy," I said, voice a little trembly. I never stood up for myself, so that was a huge leap for me. _Boldly saying what no man has said before, _he quipped.

"I have friends coming, gleek, and I don't need you stealing _our _seats," Jared explained, his tone becoming frustrated. Jack would normally have backed off, but he hoped if he didn't, they'd listen. He was hoping that if he could get that small group to leave him alone, maybe more people at SIHS would accept him. There would be less homophobic slurs at least.

"Well, I guess your friends will have to sit somewhere else," I responded, tired of backing down. I wanted to be treated like a person. Jared's eyes widened, and then he _laughed_. The four of them did. I wonder if Zoey remembered that.

"Gay-boy sounds tough," Kayla mocked, "what you going to do, glitter us?" she fluffed her short blond hair and smirked, as though daring me. I never did know what I'd done to offend her, but I guess I'll never know.

I shrank a little in my seat, sick of her insults. I was about to retort, but Kayla stood up, going for humiliation. Something malicious was shining in her eyes, making it obvious that she wasn't done. "Attention, everyone," she cried out, very obviously wasted, "there is a gay boy in row nine, and if we don't cave to his will, he's going to glitter us!" she giggled as she screamed it out. They all did. Jared thought it was hilarious, and so did Heath.

Zoey slapped Kayla's arm and whispered "Kay, you're so mean," she whispered. Within three seconds of saying it, she began to laugh too. Kayla stood up for a second time, now high on attention, and drunk. "You going to cry, faggot?" she demanded, "you might ruin your make up," she jeered. By now Heath was over it, sitting back in his seat, looking anywhere but at the spectacle. Zoey was blushing. Kayla must have been the bitch of the group.

This time most people there laughed, including my future friend—or, Damien's friend, I didn't know her. I felt tears forming in spite of myself. I tried not to cry, but they didn't realize how much it hurt. Seeing them laughing hurt, hearing Kayla's ignorant words hurt. Finally a tear slipped free of my eyes. Just then, the usher came to demand what the cause if this commotion was.

Jared stood up, "it's him, man. He was trying to cause a commotion," he said, looking honest. Looking, meaning not being remotely honest, but giving no facial clues. Kayla stood up, looking terrified. She started blubbering, covering her smug expression with her hands and making little keening sounds. "h-he-" she began, and then broke down into more false crying.

What a liar.

"Yeah, usher, he was threatening Heath, wasn't he, Zoey? He was trying to get Heath to-" she trailed off, wiping away a fake tear. Maybe it was real and she was just dramatic enough that she could do that. I'll never be sure.

I stood up, "honestly, I wasn't threatening Heath, or any of you, I just wanted to enjoy the movie," I plead. Then, I got a glimpse of Kayla's smirking face and I sighed, "look, guys, just because I'm gay-" I started.

The usher turned to Zoey, who was getting elbowed by Kayla, no doubt to frame me, "well, miss? Did he do anything of the sort?" he asked. He looked genuinely concerned, and I knew that, whatever I said, I was at Zoey's mercy.

Zoey only nodded, mouthing _sorry_ to me. The crowd laughed and jeered as I was escorted from the theatre, tears openly sliding down my cheeks.

*/*/

I was jarred from my memories when Damien arrived. He looked at the basket of white pencil crayons that were left and smiled. "That's exactly what I need," he cried, selecting one.

I looked at Damien, eyes widening in disbelief, "you need those?" I asked, figuring he just needed something to use to get the gum off his shoe. That's all white pencil crayons were good for anyways, serving in the icky jobs. Again, I knew how they felt. Being used by others, existing as a convenience.

*/*/

I had thought Cory was different. He was popular, yes, but there was always something to him. He'd taken to sitting with me in some of our classes. While we sat, we talked. Cory wanted to be different, and I understood that. As weeks passed, we grew acquainted. I even started to have feelings for him. Cory seemed to understand me. I appreciated that I didn't have to lie to him. I could be the artistic, hopeful, carefree Jack around him. The end of year projects were coming around just around a major event, maybe prom, so I'd asked him.

He'd dismissed me the first time, so I wound up going to his place to ask him. He said yes. I had been so excited for that damned prom. I thought things were falling into place for me, finally.

At prom, I got my rude awakening. Cory had a girlfriend. They'd set me up for sabotage. They dumped something, glitter, actually, because of Kayla's remark on me, and everyone laughed. I felt like poor Carrie did in that old movie. The next week, when Cory sat with Georgia, his girlfriend, I discovered that he'd turned in my end of term paper. I was nothing more than a grade in English to him.

*/*/

I watched in awe as Damien walked down to his seat, and found black paper, for his white crayons. "But Damien, no one cares about white pencil crayons," I told him. _Or me, _my mind remarked, _seriously, Jack, he's probably only showing you around because the High Priestess asked him to. _I hoped that wasn't true, because Damien was so nice. I liked being around him. Not to mention, he was so good at fencing, and when he was fencing he looked so—_stop, Jack. Didn't you learn last time?_

Damien smiled, "no, that's not true, they're just different, they need to show their light, then people would all love them," he insisted. I wondered if he knew the significance of his words to me. I wonder if he knew how I considered myself so like those pencil crayons. Could Damien like me that way?

I sighed, "but Damien, they're pointless. They're invisible. No one cares about white pencil crayons," _just like me,_ I thought glumly. I really needed to let Damien go back with his friends, the poor guy was probably sick of going everywhere I went and trying to be the welcome wagon.

Damien put the pencil crayon down and walked to me, just strides away, "Jack Twist, you listen. Those pencil crayons are the brightest if them all, they just need to have a chance. With the right colours around them, you've got a masterpiece," he explained, obviously picking up on my double meaning.

I sighed, "but why try so hard, D, when you could have any on- ah, any colour?" I hoped he'd missed my slip of the tongue. I knew this _couldn't _be. I mean, Damien was important here… he was one of the Dark Sons and a part of Zoey's circle. That meant he was relevant. Generally, those who mattered and Jack were like mon-mixy things.

Damien wordlessly took me into the hall and planted one chaste kiss in my lips, "because I don't need any other colours," he whispered, his eyes locking on mine. _Ohmigoddess, _my head spun, _is Damien gay? _I sure hoped so.

That was my first kiss and soon it progressed, as I pulled him in, melding his mouth to mine, once more. He pulled away, "Jack," he whispered insistently.

I wrapped my arms around him, "I really like you, Damien," I started, "I think I might love you,"

He kissed me again, and when our lips parted again, he whispered, "I love you, Jack Twist,"

Soon, we entered the room, and Damien resumed his sketch. Like the pencil crayon in his hand, I felt treasured, beautiful and like I was a part of something amazing.

**So, I hope y'all liked that... I love Jamien, and I've always wanted to write something like this :) thanks for reading, Shadi out.**


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